


When going through Hell

by Signe_chan



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Fluffy Ending, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Slave fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-05
Updated: 2013-09-05
Packaged: 2017-12-25 17:50:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/955962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signe_chan/pseuds/Signe_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal Chau demands something different from Newton in exchange for the Kaiju brain. </p><p>Written for the prompt "slavefic" for trope bingo on dreamwidth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When going through Hell

Hannibal said “You really know your Kaiju anatomy, don’t you, little guy?” He was thinking about something. “I can get that for you...if when you’re done with it I can have you.” 

“You want me to work for you?” Newt asked, incredulous. Well, maybe he shouldn’t be so incredulous, Hannibal hadn’t seen his work space yet. Didn’t know what a complete mess he made of everything. And he was a genius, after all. He just wasn’t sure that his particular brand of genius would be any use to Chau. 

“Work would be involved, yes,” Chau said, like he was explaining things to a particularly slow child. “But I’m not offering you a job. I get you this brain then you belong to me. I own you. You do whatever I say.” 

“You’re talking slavery?” Newt said. It kind of came out more like a squeak but, dude, slavery! He didn’t want to be a slave. 

“Oh course,” Chau said with a nonchalant shrug, like be bought people every day. 

“No way,” Newt protested. “It’s a brain. Like you just said, there’s nothing else you can do with it, it hasn’t got any value to you. That’s too much.” 

“It’s not the value to me that matters,” Chau said with a smirk. “You need this. I don’t know why but I know you do and I intend to make you pay for it.” 

“And I will,” Newt agreed. “With money. We pay for things with money.” 

“I don’t want money, not this time,” Chau said, taking a step closer. Newt took a hurried step back which only made the grin on Chau’s face widen. Shit, he was in trouble. “I want you. You’ll do whatever I tell you to do.” 

“I...” Newton started, and he’d been going to say I won’t because he wouldn’t, he couldn’t, but the won’t was lost as the earth suddenly shuck beneath them. Their eyes met for a second. It couldn’t be, could it? Kaiju had never made landfall in the same city twice but...

“What did you do with that brain,” Chau demanded suddenly, grabbing Newt’s shirt and pulling him in. “Why do you need another brain, you said you already had one.” 

“I drifted with it,” Hermann admitted. 

“You’re an idiot,” Chau growled, shoving him to the floor just as a couple of the goons burst in, concerned looks on their faces. “What?” 

“There are Kaiju,” one of the goons said quickly, panic on his face. “Two of them.” 

“Two,” Newt groaned, showing himself to his feet. “This means Hermann was right.” 

“Shut up,” Chau growled, kicking him in the leg. “You two, get him out of here.” 

“You’re throwing me out?” Newt protested, looking around as if someone would come to his defense. “I thought you wanted me around?” 

“Not right now. Right now you’re a liability. Come back when this is over, if you survive, and we’ll talk terms then.” 

“I’m still not going to say yes,” Newt protested but then the thugs were dragging him away and it was too late to protest. 

**

As Hermann stared up in to the face of a Kaiju that was here to kill him (him specifically and the precursors knew he existed and thought he was important enough to kill and he’d caused all this) he knew he was dead. 

**

As he came back towards the apothecary he just couldn’t shake it. The feeling he’d got stood there with the Kaiju looming over him, looking for him. They were going to keep coming and they were going to kill him and the ONLY chance he had was that brain but it wasn’t just him, it was everyone. He’d let them in to his head and they’d got more out of it then he had and not they knew where to hit. He had to even the score. 

Chau was stood outside the apothecary when Newt approached. He turned to look and did a double take and, yeah, Newt looked like he’d just had a building dropped on him probably but there was no need for that. 

Or maybe there was, it might work in his favor. Either way he needed that brain. 

“You promised me a brain,” he said, trying to make himself look taller and more intimidating. The way Chau looked at him made him think he’d not succeeded. 

“The price still stands,” Chau said with a causal shrug. Newt deflated, his shoulders drooping. 

“Oh come on, man. The world’s going to end if I don’t do this.” 

“You say that, I’m not sure I believe you. Besides, your freedom is a small sacrifice if it’s going to save the world, right?” 

Newt wasn’t sure he bought in to that logic but, fuck, if he didn’t say yes right now they were all going to die. The Precursors knew everything Newt knew and he didn’t know a thing that would help humanity. He HAD to try again and, well, if they did survive he could just go to Pentecost for protection, right? Chau couldn’t legally force him in to slavery. 

“Fine, it’s a deal.” 

“Excellent,” Chau said, reaching over to clap him in the shoulder. He then turned back to his men. “Go start the retrieval, make sure the brain’s intact and don’t forget the wings. This gentleman and I have a contract to sign.” 

**

Newt kept himself calm through signing the contract by focusing on the fact that this was in no way legal and Chau wouldn’t be able to enforce it. When he’d signed Chau took a leather cuff and put it around Newt’s wrist, locking it in place. It felt heavy and wrong and his skin itched under it. 

Then the news came that the Kaiju has been pregnant. The fetus had burst out before dying in the street, leaving a perfectly useful brain in it’s as yet unhardened skull. Newt didn’t waste any more time. 

**

“What are you going to do?” Hermann asked. They were in the lab and it was three days since the war clock had stopped. Day one had been partying. There’d been a lot of drink and everyone had suddenly been best friends and the world had been brilliant. 

Then came the mourning. They’d won but there was a cost. Once the hangovers had passed they were all left scraping up the leftovers. They’d recovered what they could of the Jaeger and of their pilots and they’d taken stock. It was a victory but in the cold light of day it didn’t feel much like one. Nobody felt much like drinking and the hanger was converted in to a monument for the dead. 

Newt was trying to avoid the entire thing, to avoid everyone. For a few hours he’d felt like a rock star, now he felt like a fraud. Drifting with the Kaiju had saved the world, they wouldn’t have closed the breach if he hadn’t done it. It had also gotten people killed. The two Kaiju that came to Hong Kong had been looking for him, he knew that. 

This morning word had come through that funding had been cut for good now. There had been a decision to set up a small station monitoring where the breach had been but humanity wanted to lick it’s wounds and forget it’s attackers. 

Newt knew that wasn’t going to end well. The precursors had opened the breach once before and they were still out there. They’d open it again and they needed to be ready. The world didn’t seem to agree with him though. 

“I don’t know,” Newt said, fidgeting. “Maybe go visit my family for a while or something...” 

Hermann raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at Newt’s wrist. The wrist with the leather band locked around it. He’d tried to pick the lock but no luck yet, and the leather was too thick to cut without risking his skin. He yanked his hand down quickly, hiding the band from Hermann’s gaze, like that would help. Hermann knew. Of course he knew. He’d been in the drift with Newt, he knew everything. 

“Do you think you’ll be safe there?” 

“I don’t think I’ll be safe anywhere,” Newt said with a nervous laugh. “But, he can’t force me, right? There’s no way that can be legal.” 

“No,” Hermann agreed. “But Hannibal Chau doesn’t seem the kind of man to be bothered with what’s legal and what isn’t. I’m just worried that you’re putting your family in danger.” 

“He wouldn’t,” Newt said, thought yeah, he wasn’t exactly sure on that. “Anyway, what’s your better plan? I go back to him?” 

“No, I’d never suggest that,” Hermann said, affronted. “You should go to Hansen for help. He wouldn’t turn you away.” 

“Dude’s grieving his son,” Newt said with a shrug. “He’s got enough to deal with, I’m not going to stack my problems on his plate. And besides, give it a few weeks and he’s got no influence too. Anyone higher up doesn’t give a shit about me, I’m on my own here.” 

“If I could help you...” 

“I know,” Newt said, nodding. Not too long ago he wouldn’t have believed that but the drift changed everything. “I’m going to be alright, though. He won’t care about me, not now. I’ll just hide for a while then, you know, it’ll be safe.” 

“Newt...” 

“I know, just leave it,” Newt snapped. He knew it was ridiculous. Chau has been persistent enough about getting him to sign the damn contracts in the first place. He wasn’t going to give up until he caught him. He just had to believe, for now, that he could escape. He knew this was going to catch up with him but if he admitted that he might as well just go hand himself to Chau now. 

He’d thought a lot over the last few days. Tried not to think about the things he’d miss but thought instead about the things he could do. He could say goodbye to his family. He could say goodbye to Hermann. He could slip away quietly without a fuss and nobody would know he was gone. It was all he could do. 

“Alright,” Hermann said, too quiet. He wasn’t looking at Newt now but was looking at the floor instead, as though something down there was going to make this all make sense. “Alright, but you’d better go now before he starts really looking.” 

“I know,” Newt said, twisting his hands together. “I guess I just wanted to say goodbye?” 

“Well, don’t.” Hermann snapped. “There’s nothing to say, really. Just go.” 

“Alright,” Newt agreed. He had been going to tidy up the lab but Hermann was right. If he was going to stand a chance he needed to go while everyone was still in mourning. He came around the table and started for the door then stopped. This...it wasn’t right. The drift had faded, he couldn’t hear Hermann in his head any more but he knew he couldn’t just leave him like this. Not after what Hermann had done for him. He turned quickly, walked back down the lab and before Hermann could complain pulled him into a hug. 

For a second Hermann just stood there, and Newt tried not to be hurt by how the other man didn’t respond but just as he went to pull back Hermann did, finally, do something. He brought his arms up, gripped the back of Newt’s shirt and pulled him closer and Newt went, happily, burying his face in Hermann’s neck and he definitely didn’t cry. He was pretty sure Hermann didn’t cry too but he didn’t want to get far enough away to see. He never wanted to be further away than this and he knew it and Hermann knew it and it was ridiculous that he’d got all of these things from the drift, things he’d wanted to long, things he didn’t even want to think about because he couldn’t have any of it. 

He was such a fucking idiot. 

“Go,” Hermann said, and his voice was sharp and full of not tears and he let go, quickly, like tearing of a plaster and Hermann went, he didn’t look back. 

It he looked back he’d stay and he couldn’t stay. 

**

He doesn’t tell his family why he’s visiting. If he did they’d only worry and that wouldn’t help at all. He spends a couple of weeks, first with his parents and then out at the house by the lake with his uncle. It’s been years since he put aside time to make music. He wrote songs and smoked some dubious substances and pretended he didn’t miss Hermann, with varying degrees of success. 

From there he went to France, spent a week in Paris. Chau had power around the Pacific Rim, he figured his best bet was to stay away. He went to England but it was too wet and the pomp reminded him of Hermann. He thought about calling Hermann but didn’t. Wrote a letter but didn’t post it. 

He went from England to Spain and then to Portugal and that was where they found him. A tap on his shoulder one night in a local bar: all other eyes on the football screen. He didn’t fight them. He was getting kind of tired of running. 

**

“Did you really think you’d get away?” Chau asked. Newt was really starting to re-think this coming quietly thing. He was pretty sure his wrist was broken and he probably looked as bad as the last time he’d seen Chau. Maybe the thugs had done this so Chau would still recognize him. 

“Just fancied a holiday,” Newt replied. The blow came from the thug to his left, and landed on the back of his head. He rocked forward with it, hissing in pain, then forced himself to straighten again. It was bad enough he was here on the floor with his damn hands tied together like some kind of sacrificial offering. 

“You’ve only made it worse for yourself,” Chau said, like that wasn’t ridiculously obvious. Newt was pretty sure if he’d come straight here life would still have been pretty miserable though and at least this way he got to say goodbye. He managed not to tell Chau that, though. Even that Chau paused for a second to give him a chance to get himself hit again. 

“For now I’m going to put you in the lab, I need your brain more than I need you to suffer. No more Kaiju coming through means my supplies are limited. You are going to turn your ridiculous brain to thinking up some uses for the bits of Kaiju I can’t find any damn use for yet. Like the brains. In fact, you can have some brains first. Remind you how you ended up here. I might even give you the one you drifted with.” 

“Suits me fine,” Newt said, already planning on doing exactly no work for this guy. He got another smack, on the shoulders this time so it wasn’t as bad. 

**

He’d been about three weeks in hell. Chau had fastened a collar around his neck, heavy cold metal, and he’d already developed calluses. Chau’s got him in a tiny cell. He can cross the entire thing in three strides so even if he wanted to work he’d hardly be able to do that in here. Couldn’t pace, couldn’t think. There was a bunk with a thin mattress and no sheets. There was a desk with a jar of kaiju brain and a random assortment of scientific equipment. There was a notepad. He was meant to write down what other equipment he needed and they’d get it. He hadn’t written anything. 

In the corner there was a toilet. No sink, no shower. He felt like his flesh was crawling. He’d almost considered flushing a few times and using the water from the toilet bowl to wash but it looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years. There was a flap at the bottom of the door and they pushed meals through sometimes. He guessed it was probably twice a day but with no windows it was hard to track time. 

He was going slowly mad. He needed to get out of here, he just didn’t know how. 

He spent a lot of time lying on the thin bunk, facing the wall. If he closed his eyes he could almost imagine he was back at the shatterdome. The beds there had been shit too. He could imagine he was going to get up soon and go down to the lab. He’d make a mess to annoy Hermann, or maybe not now. Now he KNEW Hermann. He still felt like there was a hole in his brain where Hermann should have fitted. 

Sometimes when he curled up on his mattress, when he couldn’t shut the world out, he imagined Hermann was curled behind him. He imagined Hermann telling him not to be so ridiculously dramatic. He imagined Hermann telling him he’d find a way out because it was what he had to do. He imagined Hermann kissing the back on his neck, holding him close. 

He really missed Hermann. 

It was a ‘imaging he was going to go down to the lab later’ day when the door opened for the first time. Newt jerked up, spinning around and nearly falling of the bed in his haste. The door was framed by two of the thugs. Particularly mean looking ones, like the people who used to shove his head in the toilet back in school. 

This wasn’t going to end well at all. 

Between then stood Hannibal Chau. Perfectly turned out as usual, his ridiculous gold-plated shoes managing to glint even under the crappy lights he had down here. Chau stepped forward in to the cell, looked around, sneered. 

“What have you done?” he asked, stepping up to loom over Newt. Newt forced himself to his feet quickly, hoping to at least be able to look Chau in the eye but he quickly lost that advantage when one of the guards grabbed him and forced him to his kneed, knocking his legs out from under him. The cell was crowded with the three of them, claustrophobic. Newt started to sweat. 

“Tell me, Newt, what have you accomplished since I brought you here?” 

“Nothing,” Newt said, looking up at Chau defiantly. “I’m not going to work for you like this.” 

“Really? You think you won’t?” Chau asked. Newt opened his mouth to reply just in time for Chau’s gold-plated foot to slam in to his middle. He doubled over in pain, gasping, and a heavy blow came down across his back. Another to the side, a hand in his hair pulling him over and then the thug joined in and it was all he could do it curl in to a ball, try to protect his most vulnerable areas. The thug stepped on his left arm and he heard the bone break. He couldn’t help but scream. The ridiculous thing was he knew, in a small part of his mind, it wasn’t the worst pain he’d ever had. The drift had hurt more, though not in the same way, but it was hard to focus when his entire body screamed from the blows landed on it. 

For a while he thought he was going to die. They were going to kill him right there on the dirty floor of his cell. It was going to be the end of him. 

They didn’t, of course. It felt almost as bad but they stopped, eventually, stepped back. The thug left the cell with a satisfied smirk and Chau lent down in to Newt’s face. He looked pleased. Newt wanted to smash his face in but, well, he didn’t have that range of movement and even if he did, Chau would only kill him for it. 

“You will make me something useful out of this brain,” Chau said, calmly, like he hadn’t just been beating the shit out of Newt. “If you don’t, you’re worthless. Worse, a drain on my resources. Dead, I can sell your organs. I can sell your meat. Don’t make my decide that the best value you can offer me is as a corpse. You don’t get a second warning.” 

Newt stayed quiet as Chau left. The scariest thing about the entire encounter was he believed every word. He believed Chau would kill him, given the right push. He’d die unless he complied. 

After what felt like forever a doctor came in and peeled him off the floor. He bandaged the arm, tutting over the break as if Newt was the one who was responsible for it. He didn’t give anything for the pain but he made sure Newt wouldn’t die and did him the small favor of helping him to the bed and left. 

Newt curled up, facing the wall, and tried to imagine Hermann was behind him. If Hermann was here he’d fuss over Newt’s battered body, probably call Newt a fool. Or maybe not, now that he knew Newt. 

Newt slept fitfully that night. He dreamt of the anteverse and he dreamt of Hermann’s childhood and he dreamt Hannibal Chau with gleaming white teeth was slowly eating him and he couldn’t stop it. 

In the morning, when the lights came on, he still felt like hell. He forced himself out of bed anyway. He sat at the desk, pulled the brain towards him and got to work. 

**

He managed to isolate a compound from the Kaiju brain that caused hallucinations. He found out its effects by testing it on himself. He say his uncle sat in the corner of the room, was surrounded by the music he made, felt Hermann pressing up against him from behind, like in his dreams, kissing his neck and whispering that he was safe now. 

When he came down again he wrote his finding on a note and slid it under the door. Chau came and took the brain away, replacing it with nail fractures. He sat looking at them for a few minutes wanting to cry. What the hell could you even be expected to do with broken nails? Then he remembered the bruised ribs and the way his broken arm, now healed, still ached sometimes when it was cold. 

He’d think of something. 

**

Sometimes the guards came down without Chau. Newt never did work out if they were doing things he’d told them to do or just doing what the hell they wanted. They didn’t normally talk to him, didn’t give a shit about what work he had or hadn’t done that day. Instead they just beat the shit out of him. 

They never did any permanent damage, nothing like the first beating. He was always able to drag himself back on to his stool after and carry on whatever he’d been doing but they didn’t mean he didn’t hate them. The worst thing was how powerless they made him feel. He was literally nothing here. People could come down and beat him and he had no recourse. No way to stop them. 

He could have dealt with the beatings better if it wasn’t for the starvation. He’d noticed that the longer he was here, the small the portions of food were that ended up sliding under the door. He was losing weight, that much was obvious. His skin was pale, his bones sticking out where they never had before. It made everything a chore. Getting up and moving. He felt like he couldn’t even think sometimes, he was so hungry. 

Still, he had to keep trying. He wouldn’t die here. If he just hung on, there would be a way out. 

**

In the end, getting out was almost sickeningly simple. A guard came in. A new one, Newt had never seen this guy before. He’d been downgraded from two guards to one guard; they obviously thought they had him beat. The guy came in with a leer; polishing a pair of damn brass knuckles against his shirt and Newt just...he lost it. He didn’t even think he just took the beaker of acid and threw it over the guard. 

The guard fell back, howling and clawing at his face and Newt...Newt started to panic. When the guard had walked in he’d just been so angry, just for that second, it hadn’t seemed like anything to throw the acid but now, now this guy was hurt and it was too late to go back. 

If Chau saw this he’d beat him to death. That wasn’t even a question. The only option was to carry on, to try and walk out. 

He picked up the microscope from his desk and smashed it over the guard’s head, stopping the screams of pain. Hopefully not enough to kill him but, well, he didn’t think about that too closely. Instead he knelt down and went through the guy’s pockets, extracting some cash which he slipped into the pocked of his own worn, filthy jeans. 

He took a second to steady himself, gripping the edge of the bunk and just breathing slowly. It was suicide to go out there. Even if the thug had been carrying and Newt had taken the weapon it would still have been suicide. The place was crawling with guys who could wipe the floor with him but he had to try. He had to try to walk out of here. 

Stepping out of the door was the worst part. It had been months, everything outside the door seemed uncertain. A memory drifted across his mind of his walking up to Hannibal Chau and demanding things and he laughed. He’d been such an idiot, but brave. He wasn’t sure he could even claim bravery now. 

He didn’t know where he was, didn’t know the way out, so he picked the left and he walked. 

Thirty minutes later he was in the streets of Hong Kong. He’d had to go through two locked doors but the keys had been hung on hooks by them which made him wonder why the hell they even tried. He’d passed a couple of guards who were crowded around a PS3 in an office playing some kind of game. They didn’t hear him, didn’t see him. 

He was free. 

Months and months of captivity and he was free. 

As he walked he felt a strange kind of joy bubbling up in him. He was free. He could run again. Maybe Chau wouldn’t chase him this time. Maybe he would and he’d kill him. It didn’t matter. It was all worth it for this, this precious moment of freedom. 

People in the street kept staring at him. He didn’t blame them. Weird foreigner covered in kaiju tattoos and dirt wearing torn clothes. He knew he should find a place, go inside, get cleaned up but now he was outside he didn’t think he could do it. Instead he walked, heading any way but back the way he came. 

Eventually he found streets he recognized. Eventually the shatterdome came in to sight. He’d been in walking distance this entire time and not even known it. 

It took him a while to get there, it was worth it. As he got close he saw it was still active, someone must have convinced the world that the threat wasn’t gone just because they’d closed one door. Good. 

He headed for the closest entrance. As he got closer worry started to set in. What if they didn’t know him. What if they turned him away? He’d die if they turned him away. 

He only had to get close enough for the guard on the gate to see him to realize that wasn’t going to happen. The guy, hell, Newt couldn’t remember his name but he clearly knew Newt, came out mouth gaping open to see him. Asked if he was alright, stared at him with shocked eyes and Newt just started to laugh. Once he started he couldn’t stop, he’d got out. 

**

It was only looking in a bathroom mirror later that he remembered the collar. It was ridiculous as it was heavy and metal but it had been there for such a damn long time he hadn’t even thought about it. He looked ridiculous. He had a beard and he’d never suited facial hair. He was too thin, skeletal. Dirt clung to his and there were sores and calluses. 

The guard at the door had made calls. Herc Hansen, apparently in charge now, had come down to see him, laughed and clapped him on the back (the first person to touch him) and put someone in charge of him. They’d brought him here and left him to shower while they found a doctor. 

He’d stripped of his clothes quickly enough but now he stood there staring at himself in the mirror. Damaged goods. So different, it couldn’t have only been months. It felt like years. He had no real way of knowing until someone told him. He was changed, though. He could see that much. 

Whatever energy had carried him this far was starting to flag. He didn’t want to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all any more, he felt more like crying. 

He washes. Once the shower’s turned on and he’d under it, well, it’s like it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him. The water’s almost too warm and he’d forgotten what it’s like to not be filthy, to not stink. He maybe stays in there a little longer then he was to. Until his skin his pink and raw from scrubbing, but he figures nobody will blame him. 

When he leaves the bathroom he finds someone’s been in to the bedroom it’s attached to and left him clothes and a shaving kit. He takes them gratefully, removes the facial hair so he almost looks like himself and dresses. 

It’s still not right but its better. 

**

The first night he was prodded and poked by the doctor before being declared severely malnourished and in need of further medical care for the sores on his body. The doctor had bandaged them as best he could but made noises about how it clearly wasn't enough. A guy with bolt cutters had been next, to remove the damn collar. Hansen had been last. He'd sat with Newt, talked to him. Hermann had told them about the deal, of course he had, but by then it had been too late. He should have just listened to Hermann. Just stayed. 

There was no point thinking about it. What was done was done. Herc left him after a while when Newt didn't ask any questions. He couldn't bring himself to, he just wanted to sleep. 

The mattress was hard like the one in his cells but there were sheets and he was clean so he slept better than he had in a long time. 

In the morning, nobody came for him. It kind of made sense since, well, he was a grown adult and capable of taking care of himself. Or he was meant to be anyway but he still felt like his skin was crawling. Felt like all the people here, the people he used to like and respect, would take one look at him and know what had happened. 

In the end, the only thing that got him out of the door was his stomach. The doctor had said he needed to eat, he KNEW he needed to eat but nobody was going to bring him food. He'd got the distinct impression last night that the shatterdome was even more understaffed and underfunded than ever and it was held together mainly by a vague sort of survivor's guilt on the part of the rest of the world and an unspoken fear that it MIGHT happen again that nobody wanted to look at too closely. 

Either way, nobody was going to bring him food so he had to go and get it. 

He waited until way past meal time before heading down. He was still wearing the borrowed clothes from last night. His feet still bear on the hard cold floors. He didn't mind. He walked quickly, kept his head down. He didn't want to notice others, to be noticed. 

It was ridiculous but he didn't even feel safe. Felt like any of them could attack him at any time. Every time someone passed him he felt them judging him, seeing how weak and useless he was. 

He'd had panic attacks before but by the time he realized one was setting in it was too late to stop it. His lungs were on fire. The world was closing in on him and there was nothing he could do about it. He was going to die. He was going to die here in this stupid corridor where he was meant to be safe because he couldn't breathe and maybe he'd always deserved to die anyway. 

"Newton?" 

Newt knew that voice. Knew that tone. He gasped, trying to find enough air to reach out and beg for help. He needed help and Hermann, Hermann was here. After all this, Hermann was still here. He hadn't dared to ask, acutely aware that the Hermann he’d held in his dreams this entire time wasn't the Hermann who actually lived and breathed. But now he had to face it because Hermann was here, leaning down and taking his wrist. 

Somehow it was easier to stand when Hermann pulled him up, though he was still struggling to draw breath. Hermann looked at him; he forced himself to look up at Hermann. He looked...well, the expression didn't seem to be hatred or pity. He wasn't sure what it was, though. Once he'd looked he couldn't help but lean forward, resting his forehead against Hermann's, and Hermann let him. Hermann reached up to run fingers through his hair and stayed there, one hand around his wrist and the other cradling his skull, until Newt could breathe again. 

"Thank you," he said, finally, drawing back. Hermann snorted, not letting go just yet. 

"Hansen told me you were here, I looked for you but you must have already left." 

"I just wanted some food," Newt said, the apology slipping in to his tone against his will. "I just...I didn't think it would be so hard." 

"Everything'll be hard for a while," Hermann said, and he made it sound like it was just a fact. Like he wasn't judging, just saying how things were. Everything would he hard for a while and that was going to be alright. "Let me take you to the lab, I'll bring you some food there." 

"We shouldn’t eat in there," Newt said, automatically. Lab rules, you didn't eat in a lab. Hermann snorted. 

"Well, your side is a lot cleaner these days. It's unnatural. Still, we'll eat on my side. I'm just calculating the probability of breach recurrence and looking for algorithms to scan for future breach openings so I can almost guarantee no biological contaminants." 

"Thank you," Newt said, curling his fingers in Hermann's shirt. He was glad, he didn't know if he'd be able to stand the canteen right now, not without breaking down again. 

Hermann took him through to the lab and left him. The space was familiar. Hermann was right about it being a lot cleaner but, when Hermann left him alone and he found the courage to check, his notebooks were still in his desk. His samples were still in their jars. This was still his place. 

He still had a place. 

He wasn't quite sure when his knees came out but he did know that when Hermann came back he had to get him of the floor again, grumbling about it the entire time. He took the lab book carefully out of Newt's fingers and put it back in the drawer, giving Newt a small smile. 

"You kept it all?" he asked, allowing himself to be drawn to Hermann's side where breakfast was waiting. 

"Of course," Hermann said, as though it made all the sense in the world. "I knew you were going to come back some day." 

**

The weird thing was, when he was in the lab with Hermann things were alright. Not entirely alright, of course, but almost there. If he could get there on his own in the morning, well, it was a space that felt like his. Hermann never pushed him to talk about his experiences like some of the others did, just left him to it. When he needed to talk Hermann would, of course, listen to him but he didn't ask. 

Newt had kind of worried that the entire thing would spoil his enjoyment of his work fro him but, if anything, it made him more focused. He could lose himself in what he was doing for hours until Hermann came to drag him out of it, feed him, make sure he was still coherent. 

He started to put on weight. He stopped jumping whenever people touched him. Well, most of the time. 

Hard Hansen nodded when their paths crossed, like he'd done something good. Newt wanted to laugh in his face. The only one who'd actually done anything to help was Hermann. Hermann had kept his lab when everyone else wanted to dismantle it. Hermann didn't question him. One the bad days, the days where he couldn't leave his room or he got at far as the lab and couldn't get back, Hermann stayed with him and brought him food. 

They didn't talk about the drift, they didn't have to. Things had changed, they'd both changed since then, but they still got each other. 

**

"Gentlemen, I need to talk to you," Hansen said, stepping in to the lab like he owned it. Newt shifted a few steps further back in to his side of the lab, protection. Hermann stepped up and drew the other man away from Newt. It was a practiced dance by now. 

"What is it?" Hermann asked. Newt came forward a little; close him to be able to join the conversation without having to sacrifice the lab bench between himself and Hansen. 

"I've been trying to hold them off, to find an alternative but...It'd bad news and you need to know. They're decommissioning us." 

"Again?" Hermann sneered, turning his attention from Hansen to his screens. "Just like the last however many times. They'll change their minds." 

"We have two weeks to clear out," Hansen said, voice firm. "We're going to have a small office facility for a few more months to pass on the research to other organizations but I'm afraid this is the end for you two. They won't let us take R&D with us. You have two weeks to clear out." 

"This is ridiculous," Hermann spluttered. He started ranting about his work, about how important it was, and Hansen nodded along, understanding but firm. It was over. They had to go. 

Newt felt the world drop out from under him. This place, his only safe place, he was going to loose it. He'd gotten better but better was a relative term and they all knew it. He didn't know what to do, just couldn't even think about the world outside here. his damn broken arm started to ache just thinking about it and he brought it into his chest, cradling it and sinking down to hide behind the lab bench. 

Maybe if he curled up small enough they'd miss him and he could just stay here. Maybe Hermann could stay with him. They'd barricade themselves in. They didn't need the outside world anyway. 

He was brought back to reality by Hermann sinking down on the floor next to him. He looked tired, defeated. He reached out, took Newt's broken arm away from his chest and squeezed the fingers. Newt squeezed back after a second, then after a few more seconds lent over, letting his head fall to rest on Hermann's shoulder. 

"What am I doing to do?" he asked. 

"We, Newt," Hermann said. He sounded as damn tired as he looked and suddenly Newt was sorry for leaning when Hermann was obviously too tired to hold him up but he couldn't help himself. "I'm not going to abandon you. Whatever we do from here, we do it together." 

"You'd be better to run," Newt cautioned, sliding closer. Hermann laughed, freeing his arm and wrapping it around Newt, pulling him in tight. 

"When have I ever made a sane decision when it comes to you?" 

**

After grate debate they picked Berlin. Hermann knew some people there who managed to find them a house and arrange everything for them before they flew out. They'd both had a deluge of offers but Hermann wouldn't do without Newt and Newt knew he was in no fit position to work anywhere with people yet. Berlin was close to his family, it was familiar. If he couldn't have his lab, he could at least have a place that was a little familiar. 

The flight was the worst part. Trapped in a small space with so many other people. He took a tranquilizer but still ended up curled in Hermann's side, hiding. He was surprised when Hermann let him. 

**

Newt woke with a start, a scream on his lips. It was dark and this wasn't right. This wasn't fucking right and he didn't know where he was, someone must have moved him but they couldn't, they just couldn't have. He'd have known if someone came in but this room...this room...

His glasses on the aide table, his clothes on the floor. His room. His stupid room in Berlin in his stupid house that he'd never even wanted but since when did anyone give a shit what he wanted? 

He shoved the sheets away, hands trembling, and rolled off the bed. He was soaked in sweat, the bed was soaked in sweat. He could still feel Chau's hands around his throat, pressing down and cutting off his air. He reached his own hand to run around his neck. It was fine. He was fine. It had been a dream. It was always a dream. 

He gave the duvet a kick for good measure and stumbled out of the room. It wasn't as hard to walk around the house as it had been the base, though he'd only been here for a couple of days. The only person he was likely to encounter here was Hermann. Speaking of. 

Hermann was stood in the door to his own room watching Newt wearily. Kind of like you'd watch a cornered animal you thought might bite. Newt laughed, he wasn't sure he wouldn't bite. He stumbled down the corridor, intent on going downstairs for a glass of water but Hermann stopped him with a hand on his arm. 

"Does this happen every night?" he asked, gripping tightly. 

"Don't worry," Newt replied, trying to shake him lose. "I'll find a way to cover the noise." 

"That's not what I'm worried about," Hermann said, and that was almost a growl. Before Newt could comment Hermann reached over, pulling him into a hug, and Newt was too shocked to protest. He lent into it instead, burying his head in Hermann's shoulder and breathing. The anger and fear bleed out of him like this. 

"I wish I could kill Hannibal Chau," he admitted in to the wrinkles of Hermann's pajama clad shoulder. Hermann just nodded, not letting up his hold even a little. 

After a while Hermann released him, lead Newt into Hermann's room and let him lie in the bed. Curled behind him. Held him, just like the Hermann Newt had imagined in his cell. Newt maybe cried a little. Hermann didn't comment. 

**

It went like this. They woke up together, wrapped around each other. It wasn't sexual. Sometimes Hermann would kiss Newt's forehead but some days even that much contact was too much. Hermann would get dressed, complaining about whatever he had to do that day and the idiocy of his students. Newt would stay curled in the warm spot Hermann had left until Hermann went downstairs and brewed coffee. They are breakfast and said goodbye and the day was Newt's. 

Some days he did things around the house. Some days he read. Some days he thought. Some days he curled up in bed and pretended the world didn't exist, though he always got himself up and moving again before Hermann got home. He didn't want to let Hermann see him like that. He'd eat lunch, which Hermann always left for him ("Honestly, Newt, can't you even cook for yourself?" "Yeah, but I like it more when you make it"). 

Hermann comes home in the evening. He talks about his day. They bicker. Sometimes Hermann suggests he needs to leave the house sometimes. He needs to talk to someone professional. When that happened Newt goes back to bed until he stops. This isn't forever, he'll stop being scared of his own shadow eventually. 

They make dinner together. Newt is trusted to cut vegetables or wash things, maybe stir a pot. He used to love cooking, he's not sure why he doesn't any more. 

They eat together. After they talk or watch TV or sometimes play a game. They go to bed at the same time every night, both secretly liking the routine of it. Newt waked up every night screaming. They learned early on it's easier when Hermann is there so Newt just curls back in to him. Hermann welcomes him with open arms. It's good. 

**

Since, well, since, Newt's been kind of sensitive to hunger. It's weird, he'd have expected his body to get used to it but the opposite seems to have happened. As soon as it starts feeling hungry it's like his body goes in to panic mode. Luckily, Hermann keeps a well stocked larder and leaves him food so when hunger threatens he puts down the book he's reading (today is a good day) and goes to the kitchen. 

There's nothing in the fridge. Nothing in the cupboards either, not really. A little pasta, some couscous. He could line his stomach but it wouldn’t really count. He checked the freezer. An half-empty carton of ice cream. 

Vaguely he remembered Hermann saying something about going to the hypermarket in his way home. He wouldn't have left the house like this, though, would he? Not if he'd noticed. He had been busy, though. Stuff at the lab, he'd talked about it the night before and Newt hadn't been listening. 

He took the ice cream. It had freezer burn. He managed a few spoonfuls before dumping it in the trash. He was in trouble. 

His stomach growled at him irritably and he ignored it. He checked all the other cupboards, nothing. Hermann didn't like to waste, didn't but things they weren't going to use. Newt had been paranoid for a while that Hermann was struggling to be able to afford his living there until he'd come across a bank statement one day. Hermann could afford, he just didn't. 

Reluctantly he returned to the living room. His stomach was growling now, demanding attention. It was only going to get worse, and this day had been going so well. 

He needed to eat. 

He wasn't an idiot. He knew the answer to this though he almost didn't want to. There was a shop down the street. He knew this because Hermann went there sometimes when they needed something. It was close. He could go there. 

He used to be able to go places. He used to go to his lab. Back before he used to travel the world. He used to be a Rock Star. He'd drifted with a Kaiju once and he'd saved the world, he could go to the corner shop. 

He had shoes and a jacket, though neither had been worn since they moved in. He put them on now. Found the cash Hermann his in the study for emergencies. He could do this. He was a rock star and he could do this. He knew he had to some day. He couldn't stay in this house his entire life. He was better than this, maybe. He wouldn't let Chau win. 

The walk down the street was the longest he'd taken in his life. He shook the entire way but he kept his head down, kept his fists clenched and he made it. He bought frozen pizza. Hermann hated pizza. He managed to look at the cashier as he checked out. The bored young man didn't even try to meet his eye. He made it home. 

Pizza had never tasted that delicious. 

That evening he waited for Hermann in the kitchen, the pizza box displayed before him like a trophy. See Neolithic man, he has procured prey to feed his tribe. Hermann came in grumbling, saw the box, stopped and looked at Newt. 

"I think I need to see someone about getting my life back," Newt admitted, calmly. "I think I'm ready." 

**

His therapist was called Sasha. She had a kind smile and a host of coping strategies. He liked her. He liked how, with her help, he was able to do more all the time. He went to the shop, he went beyond the shop. He managed busy areas, he did all this without shaking (much). 

Hermann seemed so damn proud of him. They went out for meals together. They went to the cinema once but they got thrown out for loudly criticizing the film. Newt didn't wake up screaming every night now, just some. He still slept in Hermann's bed. It didn't hurt to be prepared. 

**

His therapist had recommended he take a job. He just kept thinking it over and over. He'd asked her about it with the vague idea that she'd tell him he wasn't ready yet and then he'd have a valid excuse for Hermann. Hermann had to know. The job offer had landed on the mat a day ago. He'd hidden it last night, didn't want to think about it. 

It he got a job, he'd have to go out. He'd have to face people, work with them. He could do that, maybe. He could probably try. Sasha was probably right about it being the next step for him to being well. 

If he did this, it would mean he was that much closer to being well. That meant, well, he wasn't sure what that meant but he knew it probably meant he'd have to move out. If he was his own adult self he'd have to move out, to have his own place. Sasha had mentioned that too but he didn't even want to think that far yet. 

It he moved out he wouldn’t see Hermann. He wouldn't get to argue with him, to beat him at chess, to curl up in his arms at night. He wasn't sure yet how he'd cope with that. 

But he wanted to be well. He knew he couldn't stay like this, some crippled half person. Hermann deserved better than this. He deserved his own space, he own choice, and if by some miracle he still chose to share his home with Newt, well, he deserved a Newt who was well. Not one crippled by the shadow of Hannibal Chau. 

He waited until Hermann came home, thinking it over. He left the letter in the middle of the table and when Hermann came in, grumbling about the cold, he let the other man pick it up. Hermann took a second to see Newt's name on the envelope and set it down again, moving away. 

"Come back," Newt said, reaching across the table to snag his wrist. "Can you read it?" 

"Why?" Hermann asked, suspicious. 

"I want your opinion," Newt admitted. Hermann signed, sat down, opened the letter. He read it a few times and then lay it down on the table. 

"I didn't know Doctor Moore was going to do this," he said. "Are you going to take it?" 

"Sasha thinks I'm ready," Newt said with a shrug. "I...I don't know but I think maybe she's right. I need to do it some time and I've always been a 'grab the bulls by the horn' kind of guy. Or, well, I was." 

"You did drift with a Kaiju brain," Hermann said with a small smile. Newt smiled back, reaching out to snag the letters. 

"Yeah. I mean, after that, some research and teaching shouldn't be too bad, right?" 

"Doctor Moore is a very understanding head of department." 

"And if I could do this," Newt said. "Maybe I could stop being a burden on you?" 

"You're not a burden on me," Hermann said, his brow wrinkling. "What makes you think that?" 

"I'm, well, I'm getting there but I was unstable for a long time. I can't be easy to live with." 

"You were never easy to live with," Hermann grumbled but Newt chose to ignore it. 

"You've let me stay here. You take care of me. You let me sleep in your bed and it's not fair of me to ask those things of you. I'm an adult, I shouldn’t need those things." 

"You're not asking me for anything, you never have," Hermann said, reaching over to squeeze Newt's hand reassuringly. "Everything I have given you was given because I wanted to." 

Newt looked down at their joined hands, let that sink in. He knew, in a distant part of his mind, that Hermann had been attracted to him. He'd seen it in the drift, a lifetime ago. Hermann has seen it returned, too. In another world, one where Chau had asked for any other payment, they'd have found each other after the battle and fit. But now. Now he was so broken, Hermann couldn't still love him. 

But Hermann's hand was still tight around his. Hermann still held him every night. Hermann still cooked for him, even when Newt insisted he could do his share too now. 

"I'm going to take the job," Newt said, turning his hand and lacing his fingers with Hermann's. "And I'm going to stay here with you, as long as you'll have me, because I love you." 

There was silence for a few seconds after that. Newt didn't dare to look up. Eventually Hermann withdrew his hand. Newt sighed, rejection. He could cope with that, worse had happened. But then Hermann came to stand beside him. Hermann tilted his head up and met his eyes. Hermann kissed him. 

"I hope you don't have any plans for a while that," Hermann said, after the kiss. "Because I'll have you forever if you let me." 

**

Newton started his new job in September. The week before, he married Hermann Gottlieb. 

**

Life went like this. They woke up at about the same time. They had a kiss, always. Newt's mother swore by it for making a marriage survive and it was nice that, however much they managed to annoy each other that day, there'd been that moment. 

Newt took first shower, Hermann complained and cooked breakfast. They drove in to work together, something that caused general speculation among the students who couldn't work out how two men who argued so much managed to be good friends. If only they knew the truth. 

Both researched and both lectured. They'd meet for lunch - in the canteen on good days, in Newt's office with the door closed on bad days. There were still bad days, just not as bad. 

At home, they argued about what to eat. Newt insisted on cooking sometimes, something which Hermann did not appreciate, but they always made it up before the meal was finished. After they talked or read or watched television or played a game or sometimes they just went to bed early, got lost in each other between the sheets. Sometimes, on a bad day, they just went to bed early and held each other. 

Newt loved Hermann. He didn't mind that it had taken him a long road to realize just how much.


End file.
